


Atonement, and the Future

by stepOnMeZenos



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Azys Lla (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Gen, Ysayle Dangoulain Lives, Ysayle Dangoulain-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: Following Ysayle's desperate attack on the imperial warship, she finds herself in Azys Lla, miraculously unharmed. Apparently Hydaelyn isn't quite done with her just yet.
Relationships: Ysayle Dangoulain & Regula van Hydrus, Ysayle Dangoulain & Tiamat
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually one of the earlier fics I wrote for Final Fantasy XIV, but I got really... really lazy about fixing it up. 
> 
> Real quick promotion, there will be another fic exchange for Final Fantasy XIV this year, with signups starting on Nov 1, 2020. You can find the AO3 collection [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ffxivexchange2020) or follow the twitter for updates [here](https://twitter.com/FFXIV_Exchange).

There was grass mixed with rocky earth under her fingers. That was the first thing Ysayle noticed after waking up. The second was the acrid, almost electric smell filling her nostrils and the distant humming of… _something_ in her ears. The murmur of flowing water accompanied it.

She opened her eyes and looked upon a small waterfall spewing water into a pond whose shores she lay on. A rockx ceiling dotted with crystals loomed above her. Further beyond, piles and more piles of poisonous-looking green clouds came into view. In the distance, a giant fortress of steel floated in mid-air, glowing in an unnatural light. 

She had no recollection of this place, or how she had come to be here. The last thing she remembered was sitting in Zenith, content with the war having ended, and yet dejected—the sparse words she had exchanged with Hraesvelgr, whom she had so foolishly believed to be her mate—moogles coming by with food and their attempts to cheer her up that were doomed to fail until—until they had told her what the Ishgardians had been up to. Of Azys Lla, and that accursed archbishop and his knights, and… 

She had asked Hraesvelgr to take her there. Yes. He had not wanted to, initially, but somehow, she had managed to convince him. Why he had agreed to anything she—a foolish woman who had believed herself Shiva reborn—had said she would never understand, but he had, eventually, and they had come to this place finding the barrier penetrable… and, upon seeing her former comrades under attack, a wild determination had filled her to atone for her many, many mistakes. 

She had not expected to survive. Nor was there any explanation on how she had come to wake up here in Azys Lla, all on her own. She remembered falling, falling, falling; no actual impact, merely the air rushing past her as the floating isles of Azys Lla grew smaller and smaller above in the sky. Who had brought her back up? Hraesvelgr? But why had he left her here, then? 

Such questions would lead nowhere with nobody to ask them. It seemed that whatever had happened had also healed her injuries, and she found she could move freely and stand up without any issues.

She had to find out what had happened after she had struck the airship, and how much time had even passed since then. For that, she needed to find someone in this godsforsaken place who was able and willing to speak to her. Perhaps the Warrior of Light, Estinien or Alphinaud were still here—though if that was the case, they hadn't yet succeeded in stopping the archbishop. Mayhap that wasn't something she should hope for, but unless Hraesvelgr was still around, there was likely nobody else. Even if the Garleans had survived her attack they would not be willing to help her, and it wasn't likely that there was anyone else left in Azys Lla, after all those years.

Regardless of whom she might find, however, she would not find them here, on the edge of an isle fallen to wilderness. A slope across the pond seemed to lead further up the isle. It was impossible to say what would await her there, but there was nothing else to it. She would simply have to go and find out.

The dry earth crunched under her feet as she rounded the lake. She did not see a point in getting wet feet. Unlike classically trained thaumaturges, her magicks only encompassed the element of ice. Fire, she had no control over and would not be able to dry herself easily with it. 

Her path led her to the top of the waterfall, where the stream wound through a hole in the rock. The slope continued in a different direction, out into the open, where sparse trees stood. To think that life had flourished in this godsforsaken place for all these years—to think that not even the Allagans' wretched experiments had been able to kill this place…

It was humbling, in a way. 

Movement further up ahead caught her eye. A dragon—small, compared to the grown ones she knew—trotted over the platform that lay in front of her. Hraesvelgr had warned her that there might be dragons roaming Azys Lla still, and that she was to avoid them if her path crossed theirs. That they would not show mercy to mankind. Heeding his words, she steered clear of where it walked at the outer edges of the island, and crept past it near the rocky wall on the other side, partially hidden from sight by scraggly bushes. From there, she continued further up the slope, where the aether crystals she had seen in the alcove grew into ever stranger, more convoluted forms.

Then, when the rocks lining the path receded, a vast crystal formation came into view. An ethereal glow enveloped the scene, and where it shone brightest, Ysayle just barely made out the shadow of dragon wings, wrapped up in chains. Even in this disturbing place, it was an unreal sight. Something deep in her ached as she looked upon it. 

Dragons should not be held captive like this. 

The path led to the crystal formation, from the looks of it. She hurried onwards, dodging the dragons prowling across the stone and through the stream until she stood at its foot. As she circled it, the dragon herself came into view properly.

Wings, stretched into a strained position for what must have been an eternity. Dark scales glimmering in a deep violet in the light the crystals gave off, and wrapped tightly into bounds generated by Allagan technology. Red eyes, slowly turning towards where she stood… 

She found herself rooted to the spot, unable to move for an indeterminate amount of time as they looked at each other in silence.

This was an ancient dragon. Her eyes held the same sorrow that never left Hraesvelgr's. How long had she been here? Had the Allagans imprisoned her? How—how terrible, being captured in this bleak place for thousands and thousands of years… 

“Who art thou, daughter of man?“ The dragon's voice reverberated within her mind. 

Ysayle snapped out of her reverie. “I'm...“ How should she answer? Ysayle Dangoulain? That was her name, but what use was there for such things in a place like this? “I'm but a fool.“ 

“Then we are one and the same. I, too, was a fool, and will atone for my foolishness in this place until time itself comes to an end...“ The dragon's voice trailed off as she lifted her gaze and stared into the distant clouds.

Such a mournful voice, Ysayle thought. What kind of mistakes could prompt a being like her to condemn herself to eternal imprisonment?

“Foolish daughter of man...“

The dragon's voice startled Ysayle out of her thoughts.

“Others of thy kind have come hither not so long ago… Art thou of them?“

Others. It had to be the Warrior of Light, Estinien and Alphinaud, right? Unless the Garleans had made their way to this isle, but would they have left a captive dragon behind? Nay, knowing them, they would have sought to use her for their own gains, or slain her so that she could not interfere with their plans.

“Were they an Au Ra and two Elezen, like me?“ she asked.

The dragon bowed her head as much as her bounds allowed it. “Ones such as thee, I have not seen. He who came to see me was a horned man wielding a spear that stank of dragon blood, and yet he was accompanied by my father. However, he is no longer here…“ 

“Do you know where he went?“

“I do not.“

Ysayle sat down and leaned against a rock. So much for finding them and thus a way home. “What about Hraesvelgr?“

“My brood-brother? I thought I had seen him, but I no longer sense his presence in this forsaken place.“

Then there was no way out of this place she could currently see. She hadn't walked very far, nor had it been long since she had woken up, but she felt tired. Why, if the mothercrystal had smiled upon her and allowed her to survive, had she ended up here, in a dead end in a forsaken Allagan city in the sky? 

_If the mothercrystal had smiled upon her..._

Was that it? Had it been Hydaelyn who had saved her? Ysayle had heard the stories about those blessed with the Echo returning from the brink of dead and even beyond, but she had never thought it would happen to her. What was it that Hydaelyn still wanted her to do? And why wouldn't she tell her, like she had told her the truth about the Dragonsong War?

But then, she had not told her how to end the war either, and she had still found a way to do it—or perhaps more accurately, her bumbling attempts had contributed to others ending the war in her stead. Mayhap if she stuck around in Azys Lla, her new duty would reveal itself eventually. 

Either way, she didn't see any choice other than staying. 

“May I ask your name?“ She craned her head up and looked at the dragon. 

“I am Tiamat, of the first brood.“ Tiamat was silent for a moment before speaking up again. “Thou didst speak of my brother. I care little and less about the outside world, here in my eternal prison, but wouldst thou tell me of him?“ 

And so Ysayle spoke, not only of Hraesvelgr, but of herself and Shiva and the entity she had thought was Shiva, and the Dragonsong War, and Nidhogg, and Estinien and the Warrior of Light and Alphinaud… When she finished, a certain sense of calm settled on her. She had not told the entirety of her story to anyone before, not even Hraesvelgr, and it felt good to share. 

Something that might have been rumbling laughter came from Tiamat. “Daughter of man,thou wouldst call thyself foolish for a desire to make things right? Like all of thy kind, thou art flawed, fallible—and yet, thine intentions are so much purer than mine or my broodbrother Nidhogg's ever were.“

“What is it that...“ Ysayle stopped. It wasn't her place to ask. She had told Tiamat everything out of her own volition, not because she had been compelled, and she would treat her the same way. 

“What is it that compels me to stay here, in this Allagan prison? Much like Nidhogg long after my own mistakes, I sought revenge and committed a crime so foul that I can never hope to atone for it.“ Tiamat closes her eyes. “Once, I looked down on thy kind. You took my mate from me, and I thought you lesser, inferior, inevitably tainted, and yet… can I truly say I, my entire kind, is any better?“

“We… were the ones who started it, the Dragonsong War. And perhaps my intentions were pure, but it was innocent blood that I spilled in my ignorance. I came here to atone for my sins, but it seems that my time in this realm is not yet over.“ Ysayle rose to her feet. “I will stay here in Azys Lla until I've found out why that is. I owe it to those who died by my hand or my word. Will you allow me to come here again? Mayhap you can give me counsel.“

Tiamat laughed once more. There was something sad about a dragon bound so tightly she could not move, laughing… “Thou needst no permission to come visit, daughter of man, though I know not what counsel one such as me can give thee. A word of warning, however. Those who came in a vessel of steel and who thou didst seek to strike down are still here. I know not where exactly or what they are doing, but they have not left. I fear that they seek what should never again fall into the hands of men...“

So she had not been able to fell them even with all her might—with all of Shiva's might. What fearsome technology. “If I've not managed to destroy them, then it's all the more important that I find a way to redeem myself.“ As she considered it, perhaps there was a way to turn the Imperials' presence into an advantage. She needed to eat still, even if Hydaelyn had brought her back from the dead, and the Garleans had to have food. If she could steal enough of it, it would spare her the trouble of having to forage for anything edible in this dreadful place.

She nodded Tiamat goodbye and left to explore the island. 

A certain amount of time later—it was impossible to keep track of the time in this place—Ysayle knew two things: One, there was no path off the island, and two, Allagan technology was surprisingly polite.

The orb that had called itself a guidance node patiently hovered in front of her. Unbelievable that it even still worked, after all this time. 

The structure she stood next to was a teleporter, the node had said. She didn't feel good about entrusting her life—her second life, given to her by the mothercrystal—to ancient Allagan technology, but she did not see any other way. The island she had woken up on certainly wouldn't enable her to sustain herself in the long run. No, she had to do this. 

She stepped up onto the platform and told the node to activate the teleporter. The sensation that followed was… odd. It wasn't completely different from normal teleporting—the tingling, the brief bit of disorientation upon reappearing—but there was something different about it that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It felt more like being grabbed and yanked away than the ebbing and flowing pull of the aether. It had not, however, harmed her in any way she could tell, and so she shrugged and and surveyed her surroundings. 

This new island was far more desolate than the one she had found herself on. Where that one was home to an untamed sort of nature, even if it was twisted beyond recognition by the Allagan's foul experiments, this one seemed to consist solely of sparse rock and buildings made of steel, or whatever it was the Allagans had used. 

There was, however, no sight of the Garleans anywhere. Tiamat hadn't told her where exactly they had made camp in Azys Lla. If she was unlucky, she wouldn't find them before she grew weak from hunger. Azys Lla was a vast place, and one she could not possibly explore in a day or two. She had to hope they were close by and she'd be fortunate enough to stumble across them.

She stepped off the teleporter and headed further into the island. 

And fortunate she was, as she soon discovered—though it seemed exceedingly strange to think of finding an Imperial warmachina as fortune.

The steel claw floating over the rocks in the distance did not seem to have noticed her, Ysayle thought with relief. She misliked the notion of having to fight these things here and on her own. But, perhaps if she followed it around long enough, it would lead her to their camp. Surely it had to return there every once in a while? It didn't seem to be going anywhere in particular right now, aside from back and forth. Was it patrolling the area? Could magitek that appeared to have no way to observe their environment do that? 

Stay or wait, she asked herself, or go and look for them herself? She could not afford to dawdle forever, if she wanted to find food before she was too hungry to go on. 

Two approaching Imperials saved her from having to make the choice. The footsteps echoed off the rock loudly as one of them walked up to the steel claw, muttering something under his breath that Ysayle couldn't make out at the distance. The other stayed where he was, weapon held ready and monitoring his surroundings, while the other did something to the steel claw—maintenance or repairs, perhaps?

“Why does he even insist on keeping that level of security up?“ the maintenance worker asked. “We cleared this island, and the Warrior of Light and companions're gone, we confirmed that much. Might as well recall these things and spare us the constant trips to make sure everything is in order.“

His companion half-turned around to him. “Are you daft? Did you already forget why we're here? The Warrior of Light will be back ere long, and do _you_ want to be caught off guard by him? No? I didn't think so.“

What they were there for? Ysayle crouched down further when the companion turned back into her direction. Why _were_ they in Azys Lla? Surely they weren't allies of the hopefully late archbishop. Mayhap they were after Allagan technology. She had heard Garleans were keen on salvaging it, and this place was overripe for picking. Tiamat had spoken of that which must not fall into mortal hands. What fearsome device had the Allagans left in this place?

“As if these things could stop that monster,“ the first soldier grumbled. “I talked to some folks from the XIVth who fled Eorzea after van Baelsar died. He's not normal. Whatever he is will tear through some puny magitek like a hot knife through butter. And then through us, probably.“

“Our legatus is His Radiance's trusted advisor. You really think he would just let that happen?“

“Come on, finish up already. I don't like being out here.“

“Do you like being anywhere? You're such a spoilsport.“ 

After that, neither of them spoke again as the mechanic finished his work. When they left, Ysayle followed them at a distance. 

The Imperial soldiers scurried about their camp like ants. Ysayle watched them built further fortification as well as more permanent buildings than the barracks scattered around the place. They didn't seem to have any intention of leaving, which made sense with what she had overheard earlier. It wasn't _positive_ news, exactly; whatever they meant to do in this place couldn't be anything good, but at the same time, their presence would secure her food supply. Hopefully.

Stealing it, on the other hand, wouldn't prove easy. This close to the camp, living guards patrolled the perimeter along with the metal claws. It had been difficult even finding the ledge from which she was observing without getting caught. Even now, after watching for a while, she hadn't discovered a way to get closer, much less close enough to rummage through their supplies to find what she needed and then make it out again without getting caught. Whoever was running the camp was certainly doing a good job. 

She retreated towards the structure behind her—an Allagan building of unknown purposes—and hid in a crack. If stealing from the camp itself wasn't an option, perhaps doing it outside was the answer. Was there a way to entice them to bring food out with them, or did they have outposts to which they delivered it? No, in all her time observing she hadn't seen anything of the sort. Mayhap a disguise, then? Yes… if she could get her hands on one of their uniforms, she might have enough time to find their food stores and make off with enough. Of course, once they found out what she had done, they would likely increase their security and maybe even come looking for her. She would have to take enough to last for a while. Who knew if she would get another chance?

Their patrols never seemed to head out alone. Her best option was to ambush a party of two, take one out quickly and from afar and then deal with the other one, in a place where nobody else would see. Mayhap she shouldn't have let the pair of soldiers she had followed go, but then she would have been forced to content with their warmachine as well. No, better to wait for a more suitable opportunity. Getting injured here would be a death sentence, and Hydaelyn still had a purpose for her. Probably.

And so she settled down at the ledge once more, to watch and wait. Her first observation: The Imperials' leader was very easy to make out among his troops. He emerged from a barrack not long after she had return to her watch, and his eyecatching armor immediately marked him as special when the rest of them wore naught but the standard uniform. It glowed, which seemed like an odd choice, but perhaps Garlean generals liked standing out so much they were willing to modify their equipment in that manner. 

The legatus appeared to be giving his men orders; Ysayle saw them salute and then hurry off to do whatever he had asked them to do. They were well disciplined, clearly, though from what she had heard it was likely discipline built on fear and suffering. Mayhap they were but rumours, but Garlean legatii being brutal and merciless even towards their own soldiers certainly fit with what the Empire did everywhere on this star. Nothing of the sort had happened while she had looked, but even Garlean leaders couldn't simply kill their men for fun and no other reason, could they?

Either way, as the soldiers went about to fulfill their orders, one in particular caught her eye. Holding some manner of instrument, she walked past the guards and further into Azys Lla—all on her own. No companions. 

If there had ever been a chance handed to her on a silver platter, it was this. 

Keeping to the shadows of the buildings, she followed her past the patrols and the warmachines for an indeterminate amount of time. The path the soldier took was fortunate; it seemed relatively deserted, making it easy for Ysayle to stay in hiding until she had come far enough that nobody in camp would notice. 

It was time.

She raised her hand, gathering aether, ready to attack her with icicles, then hesitated. 

These soldiers… the ones she had spoken or listened to had complained about guard duty, about being here, had plainly not _wanted_ to be here in some cases. She'd heard that the empire made a habit of forcing people from the lands they conquered into their armies. There was a very real possibility that this woman had never asked to be here.

Could she really slay her in cold blood? 

She'd attacked the battleship intending to sink it. It would have killed no small number of the imperials if she had succeeded, but… attacking them one on one felt different, somehow. 

Ysayle bit her lip. She needed the uniform, though… 

If she assumed her Shiva form, she could easily use her ice to trap her. Immediately after thinking it, she recoiled. No. She didn't want to rely on that… construct anymore. If she wasn't Shiva, then she wouldn't use the power she had taken from her belief in Shiva anymore.

She would do it as herself.

The aether took shape under her touch and enveloped the soldier's feet, freezing them to the ground. She helped, but Ysayle was on her before she could do anything.

“Don't try anything,“ she warned. “I just need your uniform. Take it off and nothing will happen to you.“ 

“You! Unfreeze me right now!“ the soldier growled. “I don't know what you're playing at, but—“

“Your uniform,“ Ysayle repeated, summoning an icicle into her hand. She didn't want to use it, but the soldier didn't have to know about that.

“It's not going to help you.“

“Just _take it off._ The outer layer. You can keep on your underclothes.“

With a wary look at the hooked icicle, the soldier complied, shedding the outer armor. It looked like it was about the right size, at least. 

“What now?“ the soldier asked. “You going to stab me to death?“

“No. Just stay put until someone finds you.“ She couldn't bring herself to do it, and besides, it didn't matter much. If they found the corpse, they would know something is up. She might as well keep the woman alive and make sure she'd be gone by the time she freed herself. 

She thickened the ice until it was solid enough that it wouldn't melt for a while. The soldier had stopped in an alcove. Hopefully it would be safe from any roaming creatures…

“You won't get away with this,“ the soldier warned. “Legatus van Hydrus won't let you.“ 

Van Hydrus. Now she had a name to put to the armor. 

The uniform fit poorly, loose in the shoulders but too tight at the hip, and the gunblade felt supremely awkward at her side. Ysayle hoped Garleans didn't tailor them well enough that it would give her away. Thank the Twelve that they wore helmets, and that the one she had grabbed was spacious enough to stuff most of her hair inside. Some of those Garleans had almost certainly seen her as herself when she had attacked their ship. 

Her heart raced as she walked past the outer perimeter. One of the guards raised a hand in greeting and she responded in kind. Was that the right idea? None of the guards shouted or did anything to stop her, so she assumed it was.

They did, however, start a conversation she did not want to be in. 

“Come back from patrol just now?“ the guard asked in what was most likely fluent Garlean. Blessed be the mothercrystal for providing her with the echo. She wouldn't have understood a word without it. 

“Yes, it was a routine inspection… Nothing to report.“ Ysayle hoped that was about what she should be saying here. Maybe she should have stayed and watched more, maybe she should have… but there was no point to that now. She had to make the best out of what she had. 

The guard leaned against a barricade and crossed his arms with a lopsided grin. “He really does keep us on our toes, eh? So many patrols. Not that guard duty is any better, of course. Did your partner run off already? Can't blame them.“

“They—“

“What exactly is going on here?“ The heavy clanking of sollerets on solid ground accompanied the voice as its owner emerged from behind the barricades. Ysayle did her best not to flinch. Out of all the people who could have come up to her, it just had to be the commander…!

“Sir!“ The soldier saluted. Ysayle did her best to copy the motion—arm crossed over the chest, then standing at attention, was that it?—and prayed that nobody would notice how clumsy it looked. 

Fortunately, it seemed that van Hydrus was wholly focused on the real soldier. He crossed his arms, cocked his head a little, and asked: “I recall assigning you to guard duty. Why, then, is it that I find you gossiping with a returning comrade rather than keeping watch of your surroundings?“

“W-well, you see, I—“ 

Ysayle inched backwards as the soldier stammered out an apology. Being interrogated by their commander was the last thing she needed. She would never be able to fool him if he was any competent. If she wanted to have any chance at escaping from this place alive, she had to go find their food stores _now_. 

“You needn't shuffle. Go rest, since you've just come back from patrol.“ Van Hydrus didn't look at her as he said it. Ysayle suppressed her flinch as much as possible, saluted again for good measure and walked off in what was hopefully a calm enough gait to avoid attracting attention, past the barricades and into the camp proper.

All around her, soldiers held their little conversations about this and that, while others did maintenance work. While observing, she had noticed that they prepared their food out in the open, in a makeshift kitchen. Maybe the dreadnaught's own facilities had been damaged in their battle. Either way, that was the most likely place to find food in. She walked past barracks and warmachines and soldiers, head held high and back straight and internally shaking. 

Nobody spoke to her. It was fine. It was fine. 

“Hey, you!“

Ysayle froze. One of the soldiers strode towards her, apron tied around her waist.

“You look like you have nothing to do,“ she said. “We ran out of stuff at the kitchens. Spoilage. Go grab what's on this list from the Gration, and be quick about it or there won't be any dinner.“

Ysayle took the slip. She couldn't read any of it. The echo didn't extend to written words. She nodded anyway, and promised to be back in a moment with what they needed to provide for the camp. 

Then, with a pounding heart, she stepped into the battleship itself. The hustle and bustle of the camp grew quiet and soon vanished completely, leaving her alone with glaring magitek lights and the unsettling hum of some kind of machinery in the background.

If she were a Garlean legion intent on retrieving ancient Allagan technology, where on this ship would she be storing her food? Failing that, where would she have constructed the kitchen area? 

…

…

She took a corridor at random.

“Uh… excuse me?“ 

The technician pulled her head out of the open panel and frowned at Ysayle. “What? I'm busy getting the Gration running again. Be quick about it.“ 

“I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere,“ Ysayle said. “I was sent to retrieve some things from food storage, but...“ She had not wanted to ask for help. It would look too suspicious—a supposed legionaire not knowing her way around the ship? If anyone caught on to who she really was, she would not make it out of this place alive. 

She had soon found she had no choice, however. If she didn't ask, she would also not make it out of the ship alive, on account of being hopelessly lost.

“That's what you interrupt me for?“ The technician ran a hand through what little hair spilled out from under her helmet. “Did you sleep through briefing? I should write you up for that, but I hardly have the time for that either. Follow the green lights until the next intersection, then go left. If I see you slacking off again, the legatus is going to hear about it.“ 

“Understood! My apologies.“ Ysayle saluted. Garlean soldiers seemed to be doing that a lot. She was actually starting to get used to it… 

“If you have time to apologise, you have time to do your work. And fix that uniform of yours!“

Ysayle fled before the technician took a closer look at why her uniform was so poorly fitting. 

Fortunately, it appeared that her advice had been sound. The kitchen area was exactly where she had said it was, and even better, it was unattended, giving her ample time to decide what to take with her. She pushed open the door to the pantry. Rows and rows of metal cans greeted her, lined up neatly on metal shelves against metal walls. 

Right. Garleans packed their food into those things. She had heard about it. Getting them open would be a challenge, but that wasn't something she had the luxury to think about right now. First, she had to figure out which ones to take, and how to smuggle them out of this place. 

There were carrier bags stacked in a corner. She grabbed one of them and began stuffing the bigger types of can into it. She had no idea what they wanted her to grab and she couldn't read the labels; she might as well speed up the process. When it was full, she stood up straight and took a closer look at what she could hide in her clothes. Experimentally, she pushed one of the smallest cans into one of the uniform's pockets and shook her head. That bulge was too obvious. They would know she was trying to steal food.

Maybe if she could open some of them? There should be knives in the kitchen. It would be a good idea to steal one of those anyroad… 

Once properly equipped, she returned to the storage room and grabbed a can at random, then carefully began trying to work on it. It took some wriggling, but eventually she found out how to pry the lid open. Inside, pieces of fruit swam in their own juice. 

She had drunk from the stream on Tiamat's island before leaving, but seeing the food made her stomach growl painfully. She hadn't eaten since waking up… and it wouldn't be such a bad idea to eat as much as she could here, would it? The more she gorged herself, the less she would have to carry.

It took but moments to scarf down not only this can, but three others as well. Sated, she returned to the issue of smuggling enough of it outside. 

The uniform sleeves were spacious enough to hold a small one each, if she was careful and didn't let them slip out. The flatter ones she could stuff into her pants—the lengthy tunic would cover them. The cold metal felt uncomfortable against her bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the discomfort of hunger. 

As for the rest… 

...she could freeze it in any shape she wanted to, could she not? 

If one were to look closely, one might spot a soldier with oddly shaped pockets slipping away from the main host and vanishing between Azys Lla's desolate rocks.

A short while later, a soldier limped back into camp and reported having been accosted by someone looking to steal her armor. 

“Welcome back, daughter of man,“ Tiamat said. “I am… relieved to see thou safe and sound.“ 

“Thank you,“ Ysayle replied while piling up her stolen food and encasing it in a big chunk of solid ice. Something that massive would not melt so easily, leaving her supply fresh and unspoiled for a long time. Or as long as it would last her, at least. She would have to pace herself if she didn't want to run out too soon.

Silence settled between them. Tiamat seemed to stare into the distance, with her gaze fixed on the discoloured clouds milling all around Azys Lla. 

“What is it that you...“ Ysayle stopped herself. She hadn't meant to ask. It wasn't her place. 

“Speak thy mind.“

If she had encouraged it, it would be fine, right? It wouldn't be disrespectful to ask. 

“What is that you have done that made you decide to… stay here for all eternity?“

Tiamat stayed silent for a long time; long enough for Ysayle to begin stuttering out an apology, which was cut short by the dragon. 

“Do not apologise. It is in your kind's nature to be ever curious, and you should not feel guilty for it. I will tell you...“

Ysayle moved away from her block of ice and settled against a rock. She had a feeling this would be a lengthy story. 

“Once, I lived in Meracydia, with my mate Bahamut...“

Neither of them spoke for a while after Tiamat had finished. What a sad story… to be manipulated into doing something horrible—something that defiled the very person she had cherished—out of love… And the consequences could be felt to this very day—every single day spent in the icy wastes of Coertheas was testament to them. 

And yet, Ysayle had no right to judge her. While her own actions had been minuscule by comparison, they had nonetheless brought suffering upon innocent people and besmirched her own good intentions. They were the same, after a fashion.

“I am sorry,“ Ysayle said. “My kind has brought suffering upon you and yours.“ Was this, perhaps, what she had been brought back for? To atone for the Allagans' sins? But what could her presence change for this ancient being? 

Perhaps it was her duty to stop the Garleans from whatever it was they wanted, to prevent an ancient tragedy from repeating.

“As has mine, daughter.“ Tiamat's voice was soft, if such a thing could ever be said of dragons. “It was not thouwho hast brought the might of the Allagan armies against my consort and me. Thus, thou needst not apologise for it. I see this now, when I have not before. Though we dragons often style ourselves as wiser and more just than you, we have brought our own fair share of sorrow upon innocent mortals. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone...“ 

“If Nidhogg is to be believed, none of us are truly innocent. All of us bear the guilt of our forebears.“

“I do not hold this to be true anymore—and even if it is, what of it? What is done may never be undone. Would it not have honoured my dead broodsister's memory more to help excise the rotten parts of your society and rekindle what our species once had? Which is, I believe, what the others who have visited wish to do.“

To excise the rotten parts… to right the wrongs. It was an appealing thought, Ysayle thought. Tiamat was right. It would have benefitted everyone more if the guilty parties had been punished and the innocent let free to go. And perhaps that could still happen…

...but where did that leave her? What could she do to atone for her mistakes?

“What of you?“ she asked instead of thinking about that any further. “By the same logic, would it not honour your broodmate's legacy more if you went after those who orchestrated his demise and summoning? Even if it was you who conducted the summoning, those who prompted you to do it surely share part of the blame.“ 

For the longest time, there was no answer. “I have considered and subsequently discarded this notion,“ Tiamat said at last. “The millennia I have spent in this place have afforded me much time to think. Yet… telling thee, and hearing thou tell me in return, casteth a different light upon it. I must needs think about it further, perhaps.“

Ysayle bowed her head. “I will leave you to it, then, if you wish.“

“Yes. The cliffs up top the island should be safe for thee. The twisted abominations Allag created do not usually venture that far up.“

“Thank you, Tiamat.“

Part of Ysayle wanted to dangle her legs over the edge of the cliffs. The larger part realised that that was a terrible idea. She had survived falling once, somehow. She would not survive it a second time. 

So she settled down on a rock a respectable distance away instead. It still afforded her a prime view of Azys Lla in its entirety. 

As an environment, it felt oddly fitting for the Garleans to inhabit. Their soulless steel architectures would feel right at home here.

She still didn't know why they were here. Unfortunately, nobody in her earshot had said anything about it while she had been in their camp, and she couldn't exactly have asked. That said, it wasn't very difficult to figure out they wanted to claim the technology this place harboured. Ysayle wasn't one to be familiar with magitek, but even she knew that the Garleans made ready use of Allagan technology in conjunction with their own.

And the Garleans taking hold of whatever remained in this place would surely be bad news for Eorzea and the star as a whole.

Then she would stop them. The course of action she would take was clear now. Rather than wallowing in what happened, one had to make amends for it. For the trouble she had caused Ishgard, the Warrior of Light and Hraesvelgr, she would now protect Eorzea from this new threat. 

But how, without Shiva's power? Even now, she was so helpless on her own, but that made no difference to what she needed to do. A way would present itself.

She turned her head. From where she sat, she could barely make out Tiamat's cage. Should she tell Tiamat? But she had asked for time alone, and Ysayle didn't think she would be willing to break her cage to help her. Didn't think she wanted her to, either. This was her atonement. If she delegated all work to Tiamat, what exactly would she have done to earn it? No more than if she made Shiva do it all.

No, she would go on her own. It wasn't as if Tiamat would even be able to help her scout. Dragons were not given to stealth, after all, and she needed more information if she was to find a way to chase the imperials out of Azys Lla. 

She had eaten her fill of food. There was no reason to dally any more. 

With one last glance at the faint glow of Tiamat's prison, she headed off to the teleporter.

“...longer we stay here, the more likely the Warrior of Light will come get us,“ the imperial said. His voice sounded muffled through his helmet, and Ysayle couldn't see him from where she sat, wedged into a rift on the side of a ruined building, but she could hear him clearly enough. 

“Do you think I don't know that?“ his companion replied. Ysayle didn't hear footsteps. They must have stopped close to her hiding spot. “The legatus isn't going to let us leave until we did what we came here for, that's just a fact. Complaining about it isn't going to help any.“

“Then they need to hurry up on the central platform!“ the first imperial groused. “I know they want to play it safe and all, but we don't have the luxury for that, do we? We're not going to get our hands on it if we wait long enough for that monster to come back and finish us off.“ 

“He can't be that bad—“

“Listen, I faced him when they were here, and he's _worse_. Bastard's like an eikon all of his own. I'm telling you, if he comes back for us, we're all screwed. I barely escaped alive as it is.“ 

Footsteps, and their voices grew fainter as they moved away.

Ysayle settled back in her hiding spot. So they hadn't claimed what they came here for just yet. That was good. She still had time, then.

Mayhap she ought to check out that central island and see if she could disrupt their operation there? For they were right. If the Warrior of Light returned, they would falter regardless of what they were trying. Even if she lacked the strength to chase them off on her own, it was within her power to stall them. 

Or she could become Shiva again. This place thrummed with ambient aether. It would be enough to allow her to transform, but… no. She had done her misdeeds under the fake banner of a Shiva that had never been Shiva in the first place. She would do this as herself. 

There was plenty of mischief to be had with merely the conventional ice she could call upon, after all.

The two soldiers had long gone, and she didn't hear anyone else in the area—only the omnipresent hum of Allagan machinery that somehow still ran after all these years. Ysayle crept towards the gap in the building's wall and stuck her head out, ready to pull it back in at the slightest sign of company. There wasn't anybody in sight, though, so she slipped out completely.

How to go to the central island, then? There had to be a teleporter somewhere, surely. The question was whether it still worked. The Garleans had their airships. They would be able to come and go as they pleased even without the teleporter. Ysayle wouldn't be so lucky.

The teleporter between Tiamat's island and this one was located at the closest edges towards each other. The Northwestern edge of this island would thus be the most reasonable place to start searching. With the looming husk of the central part of Azys Lla in sight, Ysayle set off to find her transportation. 

It took longer than she wanted to, in the end. The Imperials hadn't exactly stopped sending out patrols. Hiding from them took precious time that she didn't have, not if she wanted to stop them from achieving their goals ere it was too late. She would have to return to her food stash soon as well, and…

“Don't move. Don't even turn around,“ a voice behind her said. “I have my gunblade trained on you, and I'm not the only one. Don't try anything. We _are_ authorised to kill you, if we must.“ 

Ysayle froze. Gods damn it. She hadn't been careful enough. From the man's words, they were not out to kill her. Which meant that they wanted to capture her instead.

That was worse. She had been prepared to die. She had _not_ wanted to fall into their hands and be made to play a part in their twisted schemes. 

There had to be a way out…

“What do you want from me?“ she asked experimentally.

“Silence, witch, or I'll shoot you.“ 

Not that, then. If there truly were several gunblades trained on her, and she wasn't willing to risk testing that, she wouldn't be able to get out of here with her magic, or her transformation, even. She'd have a bullet through her skull before she could get anywhere.

But she wasn't willing to go along with them either. Frankly, death would be preferable, though it pained her that Tiamat would never know what had happened to her. She took a deep breath and reached out to the aether to call forth the ice…

...when a dart hit the back of her neck and spread numbness all through her limbs. But moments later, her vision faded. The last thing she felt before passing out was her limp body crashing to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [Final Fantasy XIV Gift Exchange 2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ffxivexchange2020/profile) is now open for signups until Nov 13!

Ysayle awoke in a metal-clad room. Restraints coiled around her arms and legs where she sat in a padded chair. The only other furniture was a small table and regular chair off to one of the walls. It was cold, ironic though it was that that would bother her out of all people. More importantly, she was alone, and she didn't find any injuries, beyond feeling sore from being tied to a chair for an untold amount of time. 

Tugging at the restraints did nothing. They were padded like the chair, but it seemed like there was solid steel in them as well. Perhaps she could use magic…

Her eyes narrowed as she reached out to the aether. It was scrambled, somehow. When she tried to hold on to it to cast a spell, it was like sand running through her fingers. Though she eventually managed to conjure up shards of ice, they were tiny and shattered easily upon making contact with any surface.

So she was trapped, then. She had nothing at her disposal to work with, aside from trying to get a handle on this strange aether. Unless she could somehow talk the imperials into letting her go free, when they finally deigned to speak to her. They had to, sooner or later, didn't they? They weren't just going to let her starve to death in here. 

As if on cue, a voice echoed through the room though nobody had entered. Some manner of magitek device, presumably.

“I see you have awoken. Your name, if you would.“

The voice, though distorted, sounded like van Hydrus.

“Ysayle Dangoulain,“ she said. There would be no harm in telling them that. There was nobody she was close to that they could track down through her name. Or in any other way, really. Neither Hraesvelgr nor the Warrior of Light, Alphinaud or Estinien would allow themselves to be captured so easily. 

There was a pause, as if van Hydrus was waiting for her to say more, before he continued, “Very well, … Ysayle.“ He said her name with an odd inflection that came through even over the transmission. “You understand, of course, that I'm _very_ interested in how you managed to damage my dreadnought so thoroughly.“

So he knew it had been her. Well, it had been too much to hope they wouldn't, of course. She wouldn't give him that answer anyroad. Let him puzzle it out, or not. She wouldn't be the one to hand knowledge like this over to the Garlean Empire. 

“No answer?“ van Hydrus asked after a moment. “That's a shame. I had hoped we could come to a mutually beneficial agreement.“

Mutually beneficial? Ysayle frowned. What in the world possessed him to think that was possible after she had attempted to murder them all even at the cost of her own life? What could he possibly offer her to make her give up that kind of information?

“You seem confused. Allow me to elaborate. Perhaps you can find it in you to consider my offer afterwards.“ 

Ysayle said nothing in response. She _wanted_ him to elaborate. Maybe he would give away details she could use; either way she wouldn't have lost anything.

She also didn't want to give him anything to work with, however. If she judged the situation correctly, he would take her silence as invitation to speak. 

And indeed, he continued a moment later, “To be absolutely clear about the situation you have found yourself in: You are at our mercy. I'm sure you've already found that you can't use your spells in this room, and I doubt you have the bodily strength to break free of your restraints. Don't hope for food delivery to help you, either. We have taken precautions.“

He wasn't wrong about any of that. Did he simply mean to coerce her by pointing out the hopelessness of her situation? 

“Furthermore, we are aware that you have dealings of a sort with an eikon, though the particular details elude us. Once I report your capture to His Radiance—and I _will_ , the next time I report in—he can and will demand that you be transferred to the capital for further research on the matter.“ 

Ysayle closed her eyes. Great. Shipped off to Garlemald and used as a test subject in their demented experiments.

“However,“ van Hydrus said, “I report in at scheduled intervals, and it just so happens that the last one was yesterday. It will be a few days before I call in again, provided that nothing catastrophic happens.“

“What are you getting at?“ Ysayle finally spoke up. “Speak plainly. You don't need to dance around it like this.“ 

“Very well,“ van Hydrus said. “In short, I would make use of whatever expertise you have regarding eikons to help solve our quandary here.“ 

_What?_

“There are three eikons imprisoned here in Azys Lla. I believe they are what your late archbishop came here for as well. My orders are to analyse the technology used to trap them and evaluate whether it will be of use to us. However, we have run into certain… difficulties along the way.“ 

_Difficulties?_ Of course there were difficulties! What in the world had that man expected? Meddling in ancient Allagan technology _and_ primals _invited_ difficulties!

“It appears that you have wrested control over a primal somehow. That, or you are merely a victim in thrall of it, in which case you would be useless to us… but I am hoping it is the former, not the latter.“ 

It _was_ the former, after a fashion. Ysayle didn't fully understand the relationship between her and Shiva herself, but nothing indicated Shiva had tempered her. (Then again, and the thought made her feel queasy, would she even realise if she was tempered?) 

“Think carefully about your answer. If I decide that you _are_ a tempering victim, I may simply opt to put you down on the spot, or send you off to the capital. If you have the knowledge to help us, though… perhaps you will find a way to escape before my next report. It will necessitate letting you leave this room, after all.“ 

Ysayle blinked. He was blatantly offering to let her go if she helped, instead of consigning her to whatever fate awaited her in Garlemald. That was… tempting, she had to admit. On the other hand, it would require her to help them acquire technology that would be used to wreak even more havoc on Eorzea and the imperial provinces, of that she was certain.

“Let me think about it,“ she said. She wouldn't rush this decision. “How much time until your next report?“

“A week. I will leave you to your thoughts. Food will be coming later.“ 

Ysayle settled back in her chair. The padding was tolerable, at least. Though the chair was made of metal, nothing dug into her skin. 

It wasn't the worst position to be in for thinking about turning traitor and helping the Garlean Empire, though she would change her mind on that soon, she was sure.

The woman who brought her food was the one who had tasked her with bringing supplies when she had raided their stores. The sour look on her face told Ysayle that she hadn't forgotten about that, either. 

The silence between them stretched to the point of awkwardness, then discomfort, then almost outright boredom when the woman finally spoke up. “Part of me wants to say that you pulling that off says more about us than it does about you, but the greater part is displeased because you got my pay docked. Thanks for that.“ 

“I'm sorry,“ Ysayle offered, not meaning it in the slightest. She wasn't going to shed any tears for them, especially not over something like payment. 

“Oh, keep it to yourself.“ The woman put down the bowl containing some kind of slop and stepped around to the back of Ysayle's chair. There was a loud click and the shackles holding her hands and feet were released from the chair. When she tried standing up, however, her hands and feet moved sluggishly, as if wading through pudding flesh. 

“Safety precaution,“ the woman explained. “You can't use magic in here, and this way you also can't run before I tackle you to the ground. So don't even bother trying, hmm?“

Ysayle nodded. Raising her hand up to her face took several seconds. There was no way she would make it anywhere like this. 

On the other hand, her newfound movement would perhaps allow her to inspect the chamber and figure out how to get past whatever mechanism was scrambling the aether. 

“Start eating,“ the soldier said. “We'll be here for a while if you stall even further.“ 

Ysayle glanced at the chamber walls. She really did want to take a closer look, little though she knew about magitek… but she needed to eat. It wouldn't help her if she found a way to escape while being weak from hunger. 

And so she settled down at the table and pushed the spoon into the slop. There were recognisable, if shrumpled, vegetables in it. When she took a bite, it didn't taste like much, but at least that meant it didn't taster evolting either. All in all better than she had expected of them.

The fact that it took her nigh half an hour to finish the relatively small bowl didn't endear her to it, however.

The soldier who had brought it remained silent all throughout. Ysayle wondered if they had purposefully sent her to do it, rather than someone who had no connection to her. Well, if they'd had a purpose, it didn't seem to be doing anything. The soldier wasn't doing anything, and it didn't bother Ysayle to eat while being watched. Or, at least it didn't bother her any more than if it had been someone else.

“May I have your name?“ she asked on a whim. Perhaps it would help her to get to know this imperial, if she was the one who would bring her food during her stay here. 

“...why?“

“I just… like having names to put to people.“

“Apollonia,“ the soldier said, “though I really don't see why it's important to you. You won't be here long anyroad.“

She wasn't wrong. Regardless of what she chose, she wouldn't be staying. Ysayle sighed and placed her spoon in the bowl with a movement that bordered on agonisingly slow. “Say, Apollonia...“

“What is it now?“ Apollonia rolled her eyes as she collected the bowl. “I really am just here to bring you that, you know.“

“If you had to choose between abandoning your principles and doing something terrible or giving up on your life, what would you do?“

Maybe asking an imperial was stupid. It wasn't as if she trusted Apollonia to give a good answer, and in the worst case she would give information away to van Hydrus—but the man had to know she would be caught in that dilemma regardless of what she said, unless he was very stupid. 

“What?“ Apollonia stilled and eyed her dubiously. “Is this about you attacking us or something? In that case, I'm not going to tell you anything to reassure you.“

“It isn't,“ Ysayle said. Or perhaps it was? She _had_ decided to give up on her life to redeem herself. “It's about a choice I need to make now.“

“What manner of choice are you going to make _here_? The legatus has taken every single possible precaution, and you haven't transformed into that eikon yet so that isn't your way out either.“

That made Ysayle pause. She hadn't considered that option. Whatever Shiva was, she didn't want to give her more weight than she already had. Her regular spells hadn't worked, but those required fine manipulation of aether, whereas summoning Shiva simply siphoned aether around her. 

It could be possible. 

But the process took time during which she was vulnerable, and she hadn't missed the gunblade strapped to Apollonia's back. If she did it now, she would get shot long before she completed her transformation.

“Not going to answer? Well, then I can't give you any answers either, if I don't know what imagined dilemma you're stuck in.“

Ysayle slowly nodded. “I… apologise for wasting your time, then.“ Apollonia hadn't been told about the deal van Hydrus had offered her. Was there aught to be gleaned from him keeping it a secret?

If his soldiers didn't realise how badly things were going for them, then if he told them he wanted to enlist her help, perhaps panic would break out. That was something to keep in mind for later. 

“Right, you finished eating, go relieve yourself and then back to the chair.“

Apollonia pointed at a corner of the room behind the chair. Ysayle turned. There was a small toilet. No walls to shield it from view.

“Get over it,“ Apollonia said. “You out of all people won't be afforded privacy, not when we know what you could possibly do.“ 

Ysayle grit her teeth. Imperials seeing her in that position was revolting, but it was also the least of her worries in this situation. If they wanted to embarrass her, then she would simply go along, show them it wouldn't work to break her.

With forcibly slow steps, she walked towards the toilet. Taking off her breeches when neither her hands nor her feet responded properly was difficult, but eventually the garment dropped to her ankles. She made it a point to look at Apollonia as she sat down and went about her business. 

It was Apollonia who looked aside first. 

When she was finished, she returned to her chair and allowed Apollonia to chain her up again. There was no way out of that, short of attempting to summon Shiva right this moment. 

Apollonia didn't say goodbye as she left the room, leaving Ysayle to her thoughts once more.

“What exactly,“ Ysayle asked the empty room, “would helping you with your problem entail, legatus?“

Van Hydrus hadn't returned to speak to her for the rest of the previous day. Now that she had awoken (surprisingly well rested, given the circumstances) and been fed, she wouldn't accept any further delay. If they were concerned about her summoning Shiva, they would be keeping an eye on her. An ear, too? If so, they would report back to van Hydrus and hopefully get her an answer.

The minutes ticked by with no response. Ysayle resisted the urge to fidget. He would either come, or he wouldn't. There was nothing she could do that would influence the outcome. If nobody responded to her request by the time her next meal came, she would summon Shiva and break out or die trying. 

Then there was a crackling sound and the familiar voice filled the room. “I have been informed you asked after me.“ 

“Yes. I want to know what exactly you want me to do.“

“Provide your expertise, for one. We have our own research results on eikons, but your rather more… intimate relationships with them—or at least one of them—will provide you with insights we can't access, I am sure. For another, if we must, you may be required to visit the eikon prison itself to assess the situation yourself.“

That would be the ideal, of course. If they did that, they'd have to take off her shackles and let her leave her own prison. Unless the aether scrambling technology was portable, that would give her considerable leverage to search for ways to escape.

“You said 'for one'. What else would you have me do except tell you what I know?“

A moment of silence, then: “You seem to have an immunity of sorts towards being tempered, seeing how I believe less and less that you _are_ a tempering victim. It could be that it only extends towards the eikon you have that peculiar bond with, but I suspect, after having read van Baelsar's research, that you are in possession of the Echo.“

That and the fact that she spoke fluent Garlean—but if he didn't know that was an effect of the Echo too and instead believed she had simply learned the language, she wouldn't correct him. “You would have me face off with the primal, then?“

“That,“ van Hydrus said, “is the absolute last thing I want. I'm fully aware that you have no desire to help us. Bringing you into proximity with the eikon would only give you more opportunities to jeopardise not only our mission, but our lives and minds as well. But yes. If there is absolutely no choice, then I will ask you to face the eikon together with me instead of risking my soldiers.“

Ysayle raised an eyebrow. “You have the Echo too, then?“

“No.“ 

“Then why would you try to fight a primal? You clearly know the risks inherent to that.“

“I can't in good conscience demand of my soldiers what I myself would not be willing to do.“

Ysayle opened her mouth, then closed it again. That wasn't at all what she had expected. He was willing to face a primal without the protections the echo would afford him? To risk becoming thrall to it? Such… honourable actions from a Garlean legatus? She wasn't sure whether _she_ would be willing to do the same. 

“And your end goal in this is to…?“

“Evaluate whether these technologies are of any use. Given our recent… setbacks, I harbour doubts that it is, but I will not make the call this early.“

Setbacks. That would be the containment technology failing, in all likelihood. Which meant that if Ysayle could engineer circumstances to make it look even less reliable, then…

“You will not be the one to decide that, and I will have you watched _very_ closely to prevent sabotage.“

So much for that—but that didn't mean it was impossible, merely harder. 

But still…

Ysayle closed her eyes. “Give me one more night to make my decision.“ If she could only go through all possibilities that occurred to her a little more, she would be able to make a decision—or force herself to, if she hadn't come to one yet. 

She would never be able to atone if she kept wavering, after all. 

“Very well,“ van Hydrus said. “I will return on the morrow for your answer.“

In the end, it didn't take nearly as long to decide. And maybe it was selfish of her, to risk handing Allagan technology over to the Garleans, but… Hydaelyn had saved her life. Ysayle didn't want to throw that gift away by allowing herself to be carted off to Garlemald, never to return.

She would help the imperials figure out the technology. If she could, she would sabotage them, or convince them that it wasn't worth it, or at least try to escape before giving them anything of use.

If she couldn't, she would live with the shame, like she had lived with everything else, and do her best to make up for the damage she had caused. 

Despite having made her choice, sleep wouldn't come to her that night. She sat in her chair and stared up at the darkened ceiling after trying and failing to fall asleep for hours. Instead, she now felt out to the aether to see if she could glean aught about this mysterious scrambler from it. Maybe it wouldn't help her escape now, but if they used it against her after letting her go, she wanted to be ready.

At first, it felt like a mess without rhyme or reason to her senses; aether swirling about in ways that it would never naturally. The fact that it wasn't harming her was surprising, frankly, and it would be a lie to say that she wasn't concerned about possible long-term effects.

There were patterns to it, though.

She hadn't noticed at first, since it behaved so unusually, but the longer she focused on it, the more regularities she noticed. She was no scholar; she couldn't put a name to what she was feeling, nor accurately describe it, but the aether pulsed in ways she could, given time, predict. 

And if she could do that, she could account for the fluctuations. And if she could do _that_ , she would be able to cast spells.

Perhaps making her decision hadn't even been necessary, though making van Hydrus think she would go along and thus give her more time would have been helpful either way.

Tentatively, she reached out to the aether. Like before, it slipped free of her grasp even as she tried her best to anticipate its swirls. That was fine. She hadn't expected immediate success. With a deep breath, she tried again.

And again.

And again. 

Until the aether violently rebounded after she tried to make it do something against its unnatural flow. Misshapen shards of ice exploded in every direction, embedding themselves in the walls, ceiling and floor and very nearly into Ysayle herself; all that saved her was her reflexively pulling in her head. If not for that, she would have been impaled against the chair.

They had to have seen. Any moment now there would be a voice booming into the room, or perhaps a squad busting in to shoot her, or—

—nothing. 

Minutes ticked by, and nothing whatsoever happened. 

Why weren't they doing anything? This was clearly part of an escape attempt on her part, and it clearly made her a danger to anyone around her.

She put the thought out of her mind. It didn't matter. She had already blown her cover. Now was the time to stop being careful and find a way out before they came to punish her. 

She tried again, remembering what she had done the last time. It had resulted in usable ice manifesting, even if not in the way she had wanted to. If she could replicate that, but control the outcome…

This time, the result was less explosive, but no more useful. A massive chunk of ice crashed to the ground where it materialised. Ysayle pursed her lips. She'd need ice sharp enough to cut through her shackles—something that was possible, her ice spells could punch through solid armor. If she tried doing that here, though, she would end up cutting her own hand off, like as not. Even under normal circumstances, the balancing act of conjuring up a shard strong and sharp enough to cut through metal while sparing her flesh would be difficult. Here, with the aether scrambled? It would be almost impossible.

She tried anyway. She had naught to lose at this point, except a hand or two, and what did that matter faced with the specter of being taken away to Garlemald? After what she had done here, van Hydrus would rescind his offer for sure. 

A shard splintered against the cuff holding her left hand down. The aim had been correct, the make-up of the shard had not. She was growing more skilled at working like this. One more… 

Blood spattered on the ground when the ice punched through the cuff and straight into her arm. She bit down a scream. It hadn't cut through. She hadn't lost her hand. She would endure. 

The pulsing agony in her wrist distracted her, but she didn't dare look at it yet. There was nothing she could do about it before freeing her other limbs. Thank… thank the mothercrystal she managed it while only nicking herself slightly. 

The remnants of the cuff tugged on the edge of the wound as she pulled her arm free. Tears shot into her eyes. This wasn't like the thrashing the Warrior of Light had given her at the Akh Afah Amphitheatre. It almost felt like a chunk of flesh had been carved out of her.

The wound was deep and bleeding profusely. She had to stop that somehow. Her gaze wandered down to her own clothing, but it was filthy by now. Hardly suitable for making clean bandages.

There was no other choice, though. Nothing else in the chamber would work, and she couldn't afford to grow weak from blood loss. An infection was the least of her worries if she collapsed before finding safety. 

With her healthy hand, she tore off scraps of her coat and clumsily wrapped it around her other arm. It was imperfect and it wouldn't completely staunch the bleeding, but it would have to do. She had to get out of here.

She rose on shaky legs and walked over to where she knew the entrance to the room was. The tiles showed little to no indication that they were mounted on a door, but it was where Apollonia had entered through during her food deliveries. She just had to figure out how to get it open. 

There weren't any buttons or levers in the room, but now that she knew how to control this scrambled aether, she could use it to pry the door open.

This time, it took only a single attempt. A lance of ice buried itself in the barely visible seam. There was a deafening creak, and the door sprung open. The corridor beyond was deserted.

It was unsettling. Convenient, perhaps, but that was something to be wary of here. They wouldn't just leave her unattended if naught was afoot. 

Pain lanced up her arm. She clutched the bandage with her healthy hand and staggered forward. Better not to think about how badly off her arm was, exactly. She couldn't do anything about it… but Hydaelyn, it _hurt._

Moving further through the ship's interior, she soon came across a corridor that seemed to have _melted_ inwards. The walls had collapsed into twisted metal, barring her path. More importantly, what could have caused something like this? One of the Allagan monstrosities?

She turned around. The corridors of this ship were laid out in confusing ways and she had no idea where she actually was within its interiors, but as long as she kept walking, she would find her way out eventually. Hopefully before running into whatever had done… _that_. 

Ears strained, she continued. Her steps echoed across the metal floors. It sounded eerie, abandoned and silent as the ship was. If anything else was in here, it would hear her long before she came in sight… 

But nothing happened.

It did nothing to soothe her nerves. 

She rounded another corner. A crumpled heap lay on the ground, clad in imperial armor. Ysayle hurried forward and fell to her knees next to them. Enemy though they may be, if she…

“My lady,“ the imperial moaned, “Sophia, my goddess, where are you—“

The droning, monotonous voice… the breathless pleas to a deity… Ysayle had heard it once before, when an unfortunate Tailfeather villager had run afoul of the Gnath and their deity.

This imperial was tempered. 

He attempted to push himself up, but failed. His right arm seemed to be broken, and he crashed right back to the ground. In doing so, he flailed about and finally laid eyes on Ysayle. 

“You! You have to help me, help me get to Her. Come, let us bathe in Her glory together, we can—“

Ysayle backed away from the rambling man, who was now grasping at her legs. She couldn't do anything for him. Once tempered, always lost.

“No, wait! You can't leave me here! I need to go to Her! Help me!“

His cries echoed through the ship just like her steps had, but Ysayle didn't turn around. 

There was a primal loose, and while she could do naught for this poor soul, if she could save even one other person, imperial or not, from his fate, then her coming back to life in this forsaken place would have been worth it. 

The spectre of Shiva still resided within her head. She could feel her stir as she drew in aether, a consciousness she had once believed to be Shiva reborn that she now knew to be something she had manufactured out of foolish loneliness. 

She hadn't wanted to, but it seemed like fate would not allow her to discard her legacy so easily.

“For the last time,“ she whispered. “One last time, come to me. For those we have lost. For those we can yet save.“ 

Ice encased her. The edge of the cold bit into her skin. It would stop feeling unpleasant in a moment as she became Shiva, for lack of better word. She remained herself—remained in control, but her thoughts were not entirely her own when transformed. Even now, she felt her resolve harden in a way that didn't feel like it was _her_ —but what was Shiva, if not an idealised version of her? 

But those were thoughts for later.

The ice shattered and she emerged in all her larger than life glory. The walls of the airship, already compromised, shattered easily before her, and she was out, out, out—

—and faced with the primal. A goddess encased in gold, floating above a small army of imperials who had prostrated themselves in her glory. 

Too late to save them, too. But there were survivors. Some of them had entrenched themselves at the artillery stationed at the borders of their camp and were shooting at the primal. 

She would protect them. 

A wave of golden blaze flew from the primal towards the survivors. Ysayle swooped in. Her own aura collided with the primal's and extinguished it. It burned, but she could not be tempered. Neither in her human nor in her primal form.

“Sin must be balanced with suffering,“ Sophia said. Though her voice was low, it carried all the way over to Ysayle. “Someone must be made to atone for mine imprisonment. If thou wishest to share their fate, then I invite thee to be weighed upon my scale and judged accordingly...“ 

Ysayle didn't answer. There had been no need for conversation with Ravana, and there was no need for conversation with Sophia either. Vast blades of ice appeared in her hands, and she charged. This time, she would not fail. 

In the skies above Azys Lla, they traded blows, golden halo against shards of ice. Sophia's beams levelling forgotten buildings. Ysayle's swords shredded the ruins to pieces. In all this, she tried her hardest to keep the primal away from the remaining imperials. Whatever else came to harm in this cursed place didn't matter, but the survivors had to last. She would make sure of it. 

“Why dost thou resist?“ Sophia asked as they danced around each other. “They must be punished. Thou knowest this as well as I do. Join me and my siblings, that we may right the wrongs of the past.“

“They don't deserve this. Nobody deserves this!“ Apollonia had been civil. Regula had been downright honourable. Many of the ones she had overheard hadn't even wanted to be here. How could she condemn them to—

Something collided with her and exploded. Surrounded by flames, she crashed to the ground. When she lifted her head, she caught the barest glimpse of Sophia flying away.

No. _No!_ It couldn't end like this! She wouldn't allow it!

She managed to lift herself up into the air, but fell down almost immediately. She had to make it to the survivors. Had to. She'd protect them…

The aether that made up her primal form dissipated, swallowed up into the ambient aether of Azys Lla. What remained was her human shape. Frail. Too weak to do anything. Wearily she clawed at the ground she lay on. She'd failed. Again. Even with Shiva's help, she hadn't been able to do anything. Sophia would have reached the survivors by now.

Footsteps next to her. She looked up. The armor she had come to recognise as van Hydrus' loomed over her. 

“This was not meant to happen,“ he said. “I forbid my people from firing at you. What poor way to repay you for your kindness. Thanks to you, we were able to disperse, the better to hide from that monstrosity.“

“Then why are you...“

“One, because I have no intention of abandoning our saviour to her fate. Two, because the threat is yet present. My soldiers have hidden for the time being, but there is no way out of this place while that monstrosity is still here, and sooner or later, she will find us. I need your help.“ Van Hydrus held out a hand.

Ysayle shook her head. “I am… spent. I won't be able to take Shiva's form again, much less fight against Sophia...“ It felt like an excuse. Like she was flunking out solely because she no longer wished to fight, even to herself. But she really couldn't do anything anymore…

...on the other hand, maybe someone else could. 

“Tiamat,“ she said.

“What?“

“Seek out Tiamat. She is a dragon imprisoned on the southwestern island. If you beseech her in my name, she might help you. Tell her—tell her that Ysayle found a way to atone and now needs her help.“ 

It was a long shot. Tiamat had spent millennia in this place, unwilling to go free. Who was Ysayle to think that her having spoken to the dragon a few times would change her mind? But it was the only chance they had at this point.

“Very well,“ van Hydrus said as he bent down further, wrapped an arm around Ysayle and then lifted her up. “I will not be leaving you here, however. There is a nest of Allagan experiments nearby.“ 

Ysayle closed her mouth again. She hadn't expected that. Shouldn't he be more concerned about the fate of his soldiers and hurry to see Tiamat? Not that she was about to argue. Being eaten by a stray monstrosity wasn't how she wanted her life to end.

Regula turned around and began walking. There had to be a teleporter in that direction that Ysayle didn't know about. Which island was she on, anyroad? She hadn't been paying attention while fighting Sophia. 

For the longest time, the only sounds were those of Regula's footsteps and the everpresent static buzz of Azys Lla—and the occasional explosion that could only stem from Sophia. Thank the mothercrystal they all sounded so far away. 

“Why did you come to help us?“ Regula eventually spoke up. “However you managed to free yourself, you would have been able to hide and wait until the Warrior of Light arrived. Why didn't you?“

“And leave you all to be tempered? I hold no love for the empire, but… I couldn't have let that happen. Nor could I have simply let Sophia run rampant. I've relied enough on the Warrior of Light.“ How often had he helped her now? Without him, she would never have made it past the Dravanian Forelands—would have died to Ravana, like as not. Without him, Ishgard would have been laid to ruin while she was succumbing to despair. Without him, Ishgard and the dragons would never have sown the first tentative seeds of peace.

It was high time she did something to repay him. 

“We may be on opposing sides and nothing either of us can say will change that, but yours is a sentiment I understand. For the time being, let us act as allies, to stop our common enemy, and then part freely.“

“You're offering to let me go?“

“Yes. Even leaving aside the fact that I won't condemn my saviour to the fate that might have awaited you otherwise, my ship has sustained heavy damage, and I have lost many soldiers. I frankly don't have the resources to keep you captive on the return trip—especially not after you somehow managed to escape the room that I was _told_ was tamper-proof...“ Regula sighed. “Though I suppose that mistake turned out to be a blessing, in truth.“ 

Their conversation trickled to a halt then. There simply wasn't much, if anything, that Ysayle could or wanted to say to him. They were enemies after all, just like he had said. Only temporarily allied. 

Regula reached the first teleporter and stepped onto the platform without a word. The yanking sensation so unalike to teleporting the way Ysayle knew it still threw her for a loop. Upon reemerging, she had to squeeze her eyes shut for a moment while she fought off a bout of nausea.

“We'll have to take a second one,“ Regula said. 

Ysayle took a deep breath. Throwing up on him wouldn't be helpful.

Tiamat's island looked every bit the same as when Ysayle had left. Sophia, it seemed, hadn't wreaked havoc here yet. As Regula stepped off the teleporter, she pointed at the hill she knew housed Tiamat. She could barely see the glow of her prison from down here. 

“We need to go up there.“ 

Regula quietly obliged.

How would Tiamat respond to a Garlean legatus carrying Ysayle beseeching her for help? Would she decline? If so, what would Ysayle do? What _could_ she even do? She would certainly try to transform back into Shiva if there was no other way, but she didn't think it would work. Shiva's presence in her head had diminished to a near imperceptible whisper, just like it had following her fight with Ravana.

She would go face Sophia as she was if Tiamat refused to help, then. 

It was reckless, maybe, and almost certainly doomed to fail. She wasn't the Warrior of Light. Her own powers were not nearly enough to contend with a deity, but she would do it anyroad. She still had a little bit of protection from her echo, after all. 

Tiamat's prison came into view. Regula stopped in his tracks.

“I hadn't known such a place existed here...“ Then he shook his head. “No. No time to lose for such musings. Do you think you can walk from here?“

Ysayle nodded, and he set her down. She remained wobbly on her feet, but if she steadied herself against him a little, it would work.

Together, they approached Tiamat's dais. Tiamat's eyes snapped open. “Daughter of man, whom dost thou bring to me?“

“He's a...“ He was what, exactly? Ysayle cast a glance up at Regula's helmet. He was certainly not a friend, but right now they weren't enemies either. “An ally.“ 

“I— _we_ need your help,“ Regula said. “An eikon runs loose—“

Ysayle nudged him, trying to quiet him, as that surely wasn't the right way to approach this, but ere she could get his attention, Tiamat interrupted him. 

“One of the imprisoned has broken free, then? I have felt the disruption in the aether even here…“ Tiamat fell silent again. Ysayle's heart sank. Would she not help? She sounded so impartial.

“I freely admit that I don't know your story,“ Regula said. “Your… mortal companion here has not been forthcoming with information, beyond suggesting that we come to you for aid. There is little love between your kind and mine, but for her sake—for the battle she started and cannot continue—will you not aid us?“ 

Unexpectedly, Tiamat laughed. It was a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to reverberate in Ysayle's bones long after she had stopped. “There it is, that mortal impatience. By your own admission, you know nothing, and yet you come rushing, determined to fix the wrongs you have caused. The eikon is free due to your own meddling, is it not?“

“Yes.“

“Foolish mortal—as foolish as I once was, eons ago. Back then, I would have condemned you for your misdeeds, would have considered myself superior to you, but no more. I see now that we can learn much and more from each other—you from the eternity I have had to learn and grow, I from your boundless enthusiasm and determination to make the most out of your limited time on this star. Free me. I will aid you against this foe, man of steel.“

Regula bowed his head. “Thank you.“ He stepped off the platform again and crouched down at its foot, where he tore free a panel and reached inside a hollow behind it. Ysayle merely watched. She didn't understand this technology. Perhaps it _had_ been a blessing of disguise to have met him. She wouldn't have known how to free Tiamat, had she asked her. 

What had changed her mind? Surely it couldn't have been speaking to a mortal like herself. She couldn't have had that much of an effect. But that was a question for later, after Sophia had been taken care of.

There was a click as the bindings around Tiamat's body unfurled and slowly retracted back into the platform. The eerie glow surrounding the prison dissipated until naught remained—until naught indicated that there had ever been an ancient dragon of the first brood imprisoned here, in fact. 

Tiamat, for her part, roared as she shook out her wings for the first time in millennia. The sound rattled in Ysayle's skull, but she didn't step back. 

It took but seconds for Sophia's golden aura to herald her arrival. Tiamat took to the skies, as effortlessly as if she had never been held captive at all. 

Had Ysayle's own fight with Sophia looked like this to the imperial survivors from the distance? The sky itself lit up. The energy the two unleashed against each other seemed to make the very air crackle. The only comparison she could draw was witnessing the fall of Dalamud, little though she had seen of the event itself in Coerthas.

Neither Ysayle nor Regula spoke. There was nothing to be said, really. They had fulfilled the goal of their short-lived alliance. Now, they would part ways and hopefully never see each other again. 

Tiamat unleashed a blinding wave of energy that all but engulfed Sophia, whose attempts at freeing herself failed. There was a sound that wasn't so much a shriek but a rippling of aether that made Ysayle's teeth hurt. When the energy wave vanished, golden aether flitted about and soon vanished into Azys Lla's ambient atmosphere.

Tiamat had won.

“I must thank you again,“ Regula said after a moment. “I would not have known to ask this dragon, nor do I think she would have accepted, if not for you. Thus, you have saved us twice.“ 

“I didn't do it for you. I did it for those I could yet save.“

“Which would be us, but you may see it that way, if you wish.“ Regula bowed his head. “I see no reason to linger, and I must needs collect my remaining soldiers and get the ship running again.“

“I see...“ Ysayle watched as Tiamat began gliding back to her former prison. “Say. Is Apollonia alright?“

“Apollo—yes. She was when I last saw her. Why do you ask?“

Ysayle shrugged. “It's hard to see someone who complains over having her wages cut in _that_ tone as a monster, I suppose.“ 

“Fair enough.“ Regula raised a hand in some gesture of… what, gratitude? Farewell? Respect? Ysayle couldn't tell, but it didn't matter. A moment later, he turned around and began making his way down the mountain, towards the teleporter. Then he hesitated and turned back to Ysayle. 

“You should know that there are two more eikons imprisoned here. Though they have not broken free yet, I cannot say with absolute certainty that they won't. What you do with this knowledge is up to you.“ 

Ysayle nodded silently, and Regula went about his way.

With a gust of air that made Ysayle stagger, Tiamat landed next to her on the platform. She seemed unharmed, thank Hydaelyn.

“Thank you,“ Ysayle said. “May I ask… why did you change your mind?“

“The seeds were sown during my long imprisonment. They sprouted because thine arrival forced me to make a decision.“ Tiamat laughed again. “To think thou hast found the truth I arrived at in a fraction of the time I needed. I looked down upon thy kind once...“ 

Ysayle shook her head. “It is as you said, isn't it? We are hasty and it often leads us to foolishness… but not always. We can learn from each other and grow together.“

“Where wilst thou go now, daughter? I am sure thou hast plans already.“

“I can't just leave these other primals here, now that I know they exist… but I'm thinking we have some time. Time enough to go find the one most qualified to deal with them. If, that is,“ Ysayle said, “you will help me get out of here?“

“Didst thou expect me to leave thee here?“ Tiamat lowered herself until she all but lay on the platform. “Come. Let us go. I know whom thou art seeking. We will find him together.“ 

Ysayle nodded. “Thank you, again.“ She reached out and laid a hand on Tiamat's scales. Their coarse surface felt warm on her skin. Alive. They seemed to shift with every minute movement on Tiamat's part. When Tiamat didn't object. Ysayle grabbed onto a hard spike and swung herself up on her back.

There was something oddly appropriate, Ysayle thought as Tiamat once more took to the skies, to have come to Azys Lla with the dragon she had sought out as Shiva and leave it on the one she had gotten to know as Ysayle. It was fitting, somehow. A good sign for the future, perhaps. 

“What do you want to do now?“ she asked Tiamat as the twisted shapes of Azys Lla vanished on the horizon.

“Once, I committed the crime of summoning a perverted image of my beloved in the flames of war. I think it fitting if I were to commit to keeping the fragile peace thy people have forged with mine instead… after dealing with the menace the Allagans have left in this place.“

“I like that idea,“ Ysayle said. “I will help you, if you'll have me. Despite my wish to end the war, I only succeeded in fanning the flames. It is as appropriate for me as it is for you.“ 

“Of course, daughter.“

After that, they fell silent. They would talk more later, Ysayle knew; learn from each other, like Tiamat had said. But that could wait until later, when they could talk more comfortably. 

After all, they had plenty of time now that they had both thrown off their shackles.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated.


End file.
